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Poem by William Morris


For the Bed at Kelmscott


The wind's on the wold
And the night is a-cold,
And Thames runs chill
'Twixt mead and hill.
But kind and dear
Is the old house here
And my heart is warm
'Midst winter's harm.
Rest then and rest,
And think of the best
'Twixt summer and spring,
When all birds sing
In the town of the tree,
And ye in me
And scarce dare move,
Lest earth and its love
Should fade away
Ere the full of the day.
I am old and have seen
Many things that have been;
Both grief and peace
And wane and increase
No tale I tell
Of ill or well,
But this I say:
Night treadeth on day,
And for worst or best
Right good is rest. 



William Morris


William Morris's other poems:
  1. Atalanta's Race
  2. The Son's Sorrow
  3. The Voice Of Toil
  4. The Burgher's Battle
  5. The Two Sides Of The River


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